Stage Right:
Is set up as a herb garden, or small greenhouse set on a small patch of grass.

Lighting:
Both stage left and right are brightly lit from the same direction to simulate bright summer sunlight. Center stage is dark.

Characters:

KEN: Ken is a 30 something suburban grillmeister who's stereotypical appearance belies his more deep philosophical internal dialog. His neighbors would call him "Eccentric."

JUDY: A very together woman, firmly grounded in reality, she loves her husband Ken for his complexity and sometimes odd behavior, often times seeing him more clearly than he can see himself.

Action:
The curtain opens on dark stage. There is a glow emanating from the charcoal grill. After several beats lights are brought up slowly on stage right to reveal KEN dressed in baggy shorts, a loose fitting T shirt and a ridiculous fishing hat. He is busy puttering in the garden. Once lights are full he stands up and wipes his brow. He is sweaty. He shades his eyes and looks towards the glowing grill on stage left and then at his watch. He takes out his pocket knife and contemplates it for a moment.

Sound:
Summer sounds, insects, birds etc.

KEN: John will be in surgery about now...

Action: Ken cuts a sprig of rosemary.

KEN: Thirty is too young to die.

Action: Ken walks across the stage in his bare feet, walking as if the grass were hot and uncomfortable. As he approaches the grill the lights come up to reveal the patio. He arrives at the grill and adds the rosemary to the side table. He busies himself with arranging hot charcoal in the grill with a set of tongs. He looks at the plate of chops.

KEN: I wonder if your family and friends said the same about you. Of course, your death is not completely in vain. You will soon be feeding me and my family.

Action: Ken bows slightly to the chops.

KEN: But John for Crissake. No good can come from his death. Newly wed, baby on the way.

Action: Ken wipes his brow and addresses the fire, shifting his weight from foot to foot on the hot concrete.

KEN: "Keep me in your prayers." Those were the last words he said to me before we hung up the other day. ME. Hell, he knows I don't pray any more.

Action: JUDY appears in the window wearing a sun dress, her hair pulled back.

JUDY: KEN! Are the coals ready yet?

KEN: (shortly) Five more minutes honey, you see I'm busy here.

Action: JUDY dismisses him and disappears.

KEN: (addressing the fire) Surely God isn't waiting for someone to ASK him to help John. I mean, God knows what sort of guy John is. He should help him just because it's the right thing to do! Besides, what sort of pull would "I" have with the almighty? I'm just another agnostic shmuck.

Action: Ken steps off the patio onto the grass and wiggles his toes as if to cool them off. He looks down at his feet and then up at the sky.

KEN: Maybe I should perform a rain dance while I'm at it.

Action: Ken begins to circle the grill, pacing, clicking his tongs absently.

Sound: Summer sounds become more rhythmic, along with Ken's tong clicking and slowly segue into very faint miscellaneous percussion.

KEN: (addressing the plate of chops) What is it that makes something alive anyway? Whatever it is, I have it, you lost it and John needs it. If I could give a little of what I have, I would do it. If he were here I would feed him. Although he isn't eating much these days. That rat bastard cancer kills the appetite as it consumes the body.

Yaknow I was watching TV the other night and I saw a show about some natives who believed that life force passed from one being to another through some ethereal medium, When they killed their dinner, they knelt beside it as it died and thanked it for the life it was giving up so that the hunters and their families may live, I doubt the workers in the slaughterhouse did that for you friend.

Some days I wish I believed in magic.

Sound: Drums become more obvious and louder.

Lights: Begin to dim very slowly.

Action: Ken circles the fire once more and heads off with a sense of purpose across the backyard to the garden where he grasps and cuts a handful of sage, nicking his thumb in the process. He returns to the grill and stands in the grass. He looks up.

KEN: (addressing God) Alright God. I do this in honor of my best friend, my blood brother John. I do this in the manor of men who were much closer to you and the cycle of life than I'll probably ever be until my own death completes my circle. John is a good man, a good father, a good husband and a good friend. He doesn't deserve to die so young. I love him like my own brother. But I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, you created him after all. Just know that he is appreciated by several of your other creations and we would like to have him around for a while longer.

Action: Ken tosses herbs on the grill, smoke raises (preferably Sage smoke.)

KEN: Whatever it is that makes me alive, I give of freely. I consign it to this fire so it may raise as smoke and fill the air, so that there might be just a little extra life in this universe for John to tap into.

Sound: Sudden silence.

Action: Judy appears at the screen door, a phone in one hand and a glass of iced tea in the other.

JUDY: Good Lord Ken, what on earth are you doing?

KEN: I I was just thinking maybe I could smoke the chops.

JUDY: Well Ken, it stinks to high heaven out here and you're pacing around like a caged animal with a bloody thumb, talking to yourself. The neighbors already think you are weird and I'm beginning to agree! Here, drink this, I think the heat is getting to you.

KEN: (Takes the tea and sips it) Thanks hon. Who was on the phone?

JUDY: (Suddenly delighted) It was Marcy calling from the coast. John is out of surgery and in stable condition. The operation went well and they believe they got all the cancer!

Action: Ken and Judy embrace.

Ken: Oh sweetie that is such good news.

JUDY: Marcy wanted to thank us for our support and for our prayers.

Pause for several beats while they continue to embrace.

KEN: Did you pray honey?

JUDY: Of course I did, weirdo.

Lights: Several bright photo flashes.

Sound: Thunder, followed by faint return of drums and maracas. The sound of pouring rain.

Lights: Stage lights dim leaving only the sound of drums and the glow from the grill.

© 2001 by Michael S. McKlusky

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